


Run the Gauntlet

by TechnicalMachine



Series: The Omniverse [1]
Category: Original Work, Villainous (Cartoon)
Genre: Bets, Body Horror, But not that bad, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Mirror Maze, Omniverse, Poison, Temporary Character Death, That's a Cameron thing, The Gauntlet, Weapons, a few minor swears, it'll be more of a... thing as we go, perceived kidnapping, self-deprecation, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:14:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28219803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TechnicalMachine/pseuds/TechnicalMachine
Summary: “I could work myself to death, and none of them would care. Hell, as long as finished this prototype, I could vanish off the face of the Earth and none of them would care.""Wanna bet?”
Series: The Omniverse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1801897
Kudos: 13





	Run the Gauntlet

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so you may not know this, but I have a Wordpress blog where I post early drafts of story ideas that I'm not sure that I want to publish elsewhere. I won't link it here, as that would sort of defeat the purpose, but if you recognize the following story, odds are, that's where you saw it. The blog has a link to my ao3 account directly on it, so if you find this posted somewhere that doesn't link back to ao3, that wasn't posted with my permission.  
> Now that that's out of the way, please enjoy!

“Almost… got it… There!” Flug jumped back from his work table to admire the invention that lay completed upon it. It was a new stun weapon designed to work on heroes with electricity based powers, since they were immune to traditional stun guns. Perfect for taking the hero in alive for torture or revenge or whatever. It had been difficult to isolate the perfect venom to use, but Flug had always thrived on difficulty.

“Hey, Doc! Whatcha got there?”

Speaking of difficulty.

“It’s an extremely important prototype, Dementia, so don’t touch it!” Flug replied, a bit too late. Dementia had already picked up the gun and was spinning it in one hand.

“Doesn’t look that impressive to me.”

“Put that down!” Flug lunged for Dementia, who giggled and dropped the gun. It hit the floor and the containment for the venom shattered. He quickly grabbed Dementia by the wrists and pulled her away from the slowly spreading pool of paralytic.

“Whoops!” Dementia giggled. 

“Ugh, Dementia!” Flug shouted. He quickly called a Hat Bot to clean up the mess before Dementia or 5.0.5 could wander into it. “Oh, jefecito is going to kill me for this.”

“Doctor Flug!”

Speak of the devil.

_|=|_

Flug, predictably, was punished for allowing the prototype to be destroyed. Also predictably, Dementia escaped before she could be scolded and got off scot-free.

“I swear, it’s like everything that goes wrong is _my fault_ ,” Flug muttered as he worked. He had a few hours to recreate the stun gun prototype, but he planned to finish it quickly so he could work in a bit of rest. “I could work myself to death, and none of them would care. Hell, as long as finished this prototype, I could vanish off the face of the Earth and none of them would care.”

“Wanna bet?”

Flug let out a loud—frankly embarrassing—high-pitched shriek and spun around to face the intruder.

She had a grin that reminded Flug uncomfortably of Dementia, which didn’t ease his nerves about the fact that there was an _intruder in his lab._ _How did she even get in here?_

“How did you get in here?” he asked, a bit shakily.

“Uh, the door?“ She cocked her head to one side with a pout. “You know, it’s rude to ignore a question.” 

“Uhhh…” Flug didn’t remember the question, and really, he should just sound the intruder alert now and get it over with, but… something stopped him. He glanced at the prototype on his work table. It was basically finished; all he had to do was fill the new venom tank. It wasn’t like he didn’t have time. “What was the question again?” The intruder sighed dramatically.

”You said, ‘As long as I finish this prototype, I could vanish off the face of the Earth and none of them would care,’ and I said, ‘Wanna bet?’”

Flug frowned. He had said that, true, but he hadn’t even meant to say it out loud, let alone bet on it. On the other hand, as far as Black Hat and Dementia were concerned, it _was_ a pretty safe bet. Did 5.0.5 count if Flug wasn’t thinking about him when he said that? 

“So, do you?” The question snapped Flug out of his thoughts.

“Uh, sure?” he said, not really sure how else to respond. _How do you even bet on something like that?_

“Cool.” The intruder snapped her fingers, and the two of them vanished from the lab without a sound.

The prototype sat on the table, venom tank full, and a note tucked carefully underneath.

_|=|_

“Welcome to my lair!” the intruder declared. Flug found himself and the intruder standing in a large glass cylinder above a huge warehouse. The cylinder stood on a high platform, and surrounding it was a bunch of crazy traps and maze-like areas. From ground level, one would have to navigate through said mazes to approach the glass. It was actually kind of impressive, if a bit single minded in its design.

“Did you build this whole thing specifically to prevent people from coming up here?” He asked, gesturing to the platform. The intruder laughed.

“Sorta!” she said. Flug stared blankly at her, waiting for her to continue. She did not.

“Okay, then,” he finally replied. The intruder just smiled.

“I don't believe we've been properly introduced!” she said. She held out a hand. “I’m Cameron. Cameron Park!”

“Doctor Flugslys,” Flug replied. He took her hand hesitantly. “But most people just call me Flug.”

“Cool name,” she said. She snapped her fingers, teleported outside the glass, and sat on the edge of the unenclosed part of the platform, kicking her feet. 

“So…” Flug began, “what does this bet actually entail?”

“I’m gonna prove to you that your coworkers care about you. If I can, I win. If I can’t you win. Simple.”

“How are you planning on doing that?” Part of him wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer.

“I’ll make them think you’re in mortal peril,” she began, and Flug was already unenthusiastic about this plan. “And the only way to save you is to put themselves through the gauntlet.” She gestured toward the giant maze of traps and… mazes. “If they make it through and save you, I win. If they decide you’re not worth the trouble and leave, you win.”

“What happens if I win?”

“I don’t think you will.”

“But if I do?”

“In the event that you do win, I’ll present your prize options at the end of the game. I promise you’ll like the options.”

“And if I lose?”

“Normally, I’d insist on you getting some therapy, and while I still recommend that, I understand how difficult that can be in your line of work,” Cameron began. Flug hummed by way of reply. “So… How about a thank you?”

“What?”

“If I win, you have to say ‘thank you’ to me. I’ll have actually earned it in that case, and this job is quite literally a thankless one. For the more goody-two-shoes type, I often have to erase part of their memories so they won’t dwell on the guilt of worrying their friends,” Cameron explained.

“But you’re not worried about that with me.” It wasn’t a question.

“What can I say? You’re evil. If you were the type to feel guilty about dumb stuff, you wouldn't be a villain.”

“Fair enough. It doesn’t sound like you’re getting very much out of this.”

“I enjoy the game. Messing with people is its own reward.” Something about that didn’t seem true, but Flug wasn’t about to call her on it.

“If you say so.”

“There’s also the possibility of a tie with you, which makes things that much more interesting,” Cameron said. Flug blinked in bewilderment.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, if someone comes to help you, but it’s not one of your guys, then you still win.”

“My ‘guys?’” Flug asked.

“The bear, the lizard girl, or your boss.”

“You mean 5.0.5, Dementia, or Lord Black Hat?” Flug could believe her not knowing 5.0.5 and Dementia, but Lord Black Hat? She really didn’t know Lord Black Hat???

“Yes!” she declared, as if glad he had corrected her. “Those ones! If all three of them show up, I win.”

“Lord Black Hat is not going to come in person to retrieve me,” Flug insisted. Cameron just shrugged.

“If he doesn’t, but one or both of the others do, that’s the tie I was talking about,” she finished. “We both get our prizes, although whoever shows up to save you will hear your prize options, so you might be inclined to pick differently.” She shrugged as if it didn’t bother her that much.

“Huh.” Flug took a moment to think about it. That really didn’t sound too bad. The only thing he really had to lose was time, and he could use a break anyway. “Alright, deal.”

“Technically, you already agreed, but I appreciate that you still do knowing the terms.”

“Oh. Right.” Flug sat down inside the tube and looked around for a bit. “So, we just wait here until someone finds us?”

“I left a note,” Cameron replied. “With a time limit. We just gotta wait for your boss to show up for your deadline.” The two fell silent again.

“You know,” Flug began, “if Black Hat does show up, he could just skip past all that stuff and tear you apart.” Cameron laughed.

“Black Hat’s pretty impressive, but he’s not infallible,” she said simply. Flug stared at her, and she snorted. “The guy has all of villainy in this multiverse under his thumb! I’d have to be living under a rock to have not noticed. But he’ll still never be able to go farther than that. If you look in other multiverses, it won’t take you long to find a power suppressor that could work on him.”

“Other… other multiverses?” he asked. That was a new one. “What do you mean by that?” She examined him for a long moment. 

“Alright, you’re a scientist. You can probably handle it.”

“That’s reassuring…”

“Shut up. Okay, so, you’ve got your universe. It’s a self-contained system of actions and reactions. Set rules of time, space, physical interactions, sometimes metaphysical ones… The point is, it’s its own thing.

“Then you’ve got your multiverse. The branching paths of this universe from a space-time perspective. For ever action and reaction, supposedly, there is a multiverse where a different action and reaction take place. The more similar the universes, the closer together. The more different, the farther apart.”

“So, there’s basically a wall of universes spanning on infinitely?”

“Ha, you’d think! But, no, there isn’t,” Cameron laughed.

“Why not?”

“Well for one, nothing is truly infinite, just functionally so. If something was infinite, there’d be no room for anything else!” 

Flug nodded and pretended that made sense. 

“As for the crowding problem, there do exist actions where the reaction is the destruction of the universe. That’s one thing that creates actual distance between universes. There are others, but that's not really important.

“You’ve got your universes and multiverses, where you keep all your universes, but what do you call the place you keep all your multiverses?”

Flug figured that was a rhetorical question and stayed silent.

“My guys call it The Omniverse.”

“Seems… appropriate. So, what distinguishes different multiverses, if universes are distinguished by actions?” Cameron seemed surprised, as if no one had ever thought to ask that question before.

“Distance,” she stated. There was a long pause while Flug waited for her to continue, but she just stared back at him.

“Care to elaborate?” Cameron startled at the question.

“Ah, well…" She paused a moment to collect her thoughts. “To compare it to a slightly-less-impossible-to-comprehend universe, let’s say each individual universe is a star. Each multiverse, then, is a galaxy. There’s no actual physical distinction between one galaxy and the next, except distance.”

“Andromeda is too far away to be just another part of the Milky Way.”

“Exactly!

“Now comes the crazy part. So, the creation of universes is a process, just like any physical/metaphysical process that occurs within a single universe. The best analogy I have for this one is cell division.

“When a cell divides, it’s supposed to create a perfect copy of itself, except in certain circumstances, right?”

“Ideally.” Flug was starting to see where this might be going.

“Well, creating universes is the opposite. They’re supposed to be different.

“But, because time isn’t really a thing so much as an idea, every possible universe has always been there and has never been there and both will and won’t be there eventually.”

“I’m getting a headache.”

“Bear with me! From an outside perspective, the universes are physically identical except for tiny changes that, as you look farther, make them entirely different. Everything that happens within them is visible all at once. 

“The more similar ones are closer together, the more different are farther apart, but what do you think happens if they’re identical. If there’s an error in the creation process?”

“They… share the same space?”

“Well, they sure try! Unfortunately, all universes are made up of some form of matter or analogous material. They can’t take up the exact same space.”

“So, what happens?” Flug asked.

“Well, in cell division it would be cancerous, but a more appropriate analogy would be nuclear fusion.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, it’s not pretty. Sometimes, it just creates a sort of explosion that wipes out all nearby universes, basically destroying most, if not all, of the multiverse in one clean, painless sweep, which is _far_ from the worst case scenario.”

“Worst case scenario?” He wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

“If universes are stars, universe fusions are like star deaths. The explosions are supernovas. But if they’re big enough, they might go black hole. They’ll pull in more and more nearby universes and eventually collapse the entire whole multiverse in on itself.”

“What’s that do?”

“Well, ideally it should create a brand new universe based around the same principles as the original and start from scratch. Externally, it changes very little. It’s like a blip. Gone one moment, back the next, looking ever so slightly different. Except, y’know, the people living in the original multiverse all die horrific, painful deaths as their very reality collapses around them.” She said it with less gravity than Flug felt it deserved, but who was he to judge?

“And then sometimes,” she continued, “it gets too close to another multiverse and destroys that one as well. One multiverse won’t get to come back at all, maybe both.

“Or, the black hole could fail to recede AND fail to eat anymore universes. Then it just sits there, posing a danger to anyone who attempts to traverse that particular patch of Omniverse. There used to be people to contain those, but they’re gone now.”

“But if time doesn’t work, aren’t the black holes always there?”

“Black holes and traversers work on their own kind of time.” Flug decided it would be best not to ask.

“So, you really don’t want a multiverse to create identical universes,” he said instead.

“That’s the gist of it, yeah.”

“So, how do people traverse the Omniverse?” Flug‘s scientific curiosity was piqued. She’d said Black Hat would never reach farther than his own multiverse, but if Flug could…

“You kinda gotta be born for it; It’s a species thing. As far as we’re aware, only one universe, a split-less one at that, has produced a species capable of it, and they were kinda-sorta genocided. There are a few of us left, but when the agency almost everyone worked for went under, everybody left had to abandon ship on an indefinite basis.” 

“That’s… awful.” There went that idea. And, y’know, the genocide of a rare sentient species also sucks. That too.

“Eh. Most of us didn’t spend much time back home anyway. Those that did probably mostly died in the coup.”

“Oh.”

“Those of us left keep doing what we were doing. Solving little problems in different multiverses in our giant-yet-tiny part of the Omniverse. 

“Some people prevent massive destruction and painful multiverse life collapse, and some, like me, get involved in the lives of individual people for our amusement. Our very presence doesn’t actually change anything in the grand scheme of things, but preventing very specific unintended events can save entire multiverses. Creating completely unprecedented events really doesn’t do shit, since there exists no other universe where that could happen.

“And if there was, someone would stop me before I got this far.”

“Why don’t you go do the whole ‘saving people thing?’ Why only the petty stuff?”

“Well, I wouldn’t consider the individual lives of living things petty, exactly, but…” She was deflecting; Flug could tell.

“You know what I mean,” he interrupted.

“Right, well. You have to have an instinctual sense of what events need to be changed and what needs to be left alone. Or a partner that has that, if you’re lacking. I have neither of those, so I sweat the small stuff. Make people feel better. Or worse, but that’s incidental, and I always fix it eventually.” She stood suddenly. FLug opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off. “Hold that thought!” she ordered and, with a snap, teleported away.

_|=|_

Black Hat stormed into the lab, already in a sour mood. Dementia had made a huge mess in the western wing and 5.0.5 took so long to clean that he’d had to do it himself. Not that it was difficult, but he had to deal with Dementia and 5.0.5 the whole time. Now Dr. Flug was late delivering the new prototype, which was _already_ late to begin with. His annoyance threatened to boil over into actual anger when he discovered the lab was empty. No Flug to be seen.

“Dr. Flug!” he shouted, expecting the nervous scientist to come stumbling apologetically into the room, but he didn’t appear. “DR. FLUG!” he repeated.

Nothing.

_Strange_ , Black Hat thought, neutrally. He slunk further into the lab, looking around. No signs of life. Not even Dementia hiding on the ceiling to prank the resident scientist.

Something finally caught his eye, a glint of light from the main lab table, and he turned to have a better look.

Resting on the table was the completed prototype. Black Hat strode up to the gun and lifted it. With careful inspection, he found it complete. No parts appeared missing, and the tank on the top of the gun was full of a purplish-black liquid.

Black Hat was considering just leaving with it when he noticed the note lying where the gun had been. With idle curiosity, he set the prototype aside and picked up the piece of paper.

It read:

“I have your scientist. If you ever want to see him alive again, bring the lizard girl and the bear with you to the abandoned warehouse on Sombrero St. by 8 pm. Or don’t, and lose your only source of new tech. I don’t really care.

“Signed,

“Mx. Park”

Black Hat seethed. This was an insult of the highest order. Not only had someone managed to sneak into his home and kidnap his scientist without his notice, but they had the nerve to threaten ~~one of his employees~~ his business? His blood literally began to boil, causing steam to rise from his skin. This would not stand!

“Dementia! 5.0.5!” he barked.

His remaining subordinates dashed into the room with matching comically serious salutes.

“Grab your weapons,” Black Hat ordered. “We’re going out.”

_|=|_

Cameron reappeared on the platform, ignoring Flug’s questioning look.

“Alright,” she began with a grin. “They’re on their way. I estimate their arrival in about…”

The personnel entrance to the warehouse slammed open with a loud bang. Cameron’s smile grew, and she spun giddily on her toes.

“You made it!” she cheered. She sounded less like a kidnapper after ransom and more like a kid at a birthday party.

Black Hat lead the charge into the warehouse, clearly enraged. Behind him, Dementia bounded excitedly into the room with a much more cautious 5.0.5 on her heels. Freezing, all three took in the sight of the room they’d entered.

In front of them were several mirrors set up in a confusing pattern. It was clearly some sort of maze. Over the top of the walls, a large platform in the center of the warehouse was just visible. On said platform was a large glass tube with Flug inside, and their less-than-gracious host.

“I know my note was rather _blasé_ , but I really am so happy you all showed up!” Cameron continued.

Black Hat was the picture of barely held composure as he spoke, “I’m sure. And what exactly was the point of calling me here?”

Behind him, Dementia was bouncing excitedly, ready for action, and 5.0.5 stared anxiously at Flug in his prison. Cameron took note of this and smirked. _Guaranteed tie. At_ least _,_ she thought.

“Just settling up,” she replied breezily. “If I were you, I’d be less concerned with _why,_ and more concerned with _what._ “

“What?” Dementia asked.

“What you have to do to get your friend back,” Cameron finished. Black Hat snorted.

“And why would _I_ play along when I could simply rip you apart here and now?” he asked, smug. Cameron’s ever-present smile turned monstrous.

“Because I believe you’ll find getting to me rather difficult if you don’t.”

Offended, Black Hat attempted to teleport straight to the platform.

But nothing happened.

He shape-shifted into a gory, monstrous form in rage. Except he didn’t actually change. Cameron’s grin grew wider.

“It’s impossible to use powers in or on this building,” she explained. “Your powers will work perfectly fine elsewhere, of course; I'm not a monster. But that doesn’t really help in this case, does it?”

Black Hat growled, and 5.0.5 backed away fearfully. Dementia just swooned, to Cameron’s amusement. Black Hat’s gaze shifted from Cameron to Flug, who flinched.

“If you want to free the doctor here, or get your revenge on me for taking him in the first place, you’re going to have to play along for now. Or you can leave, and I’ll just kill the doc,” Cameron continued with a shrug. “So, what’s it gonna be?”

“Kill?” Flug squeaked. 5.0.5 let out an uncharacteristic growl.

Black Hat stewed in rage for a few moments before grinding out, “I will not be underestimated by some halfwit amateur.”

Cameron’s face lit up with excitement and a hint of smugness.

“In that case, game on!”

_|=|_

“The premise is simple.” Cameron began pacing as she spoke. “You simply have to navigate through the gauntlet and to this platform before the doc dies.” She swept an arm dramatically to indicate the glass prison behind her.

“Before what?!” Flug shrieked, causing Dementia to giggle loudly.

“Oh, please!” Dementia snickered, “I can get there in ten seconds flat.” With a running start, she leapt at the nearest mirror, and attempted to climb up. After a few moments of cartoonish fumbling, she slid down the glass. “Hey, what gives?”

“ _My_ powers don’t work, and you really expected yours to?” Black Hat scoffed. “I am surrounded by idiots.”

“Ahem.” The three contestants turned their attention back to their host. “As I was saying, this chamber will slowly fill with a dense poisonous gas. It’s heavier than air, so it’ll take a while for the tank to fill to the point of being dangerous. When the tank is full, it’ll take mere minutes for your friend here to suffocate, so I’d try to get here before that happens if I were you. The gas is even coloured purple to make it easier to tell how long you have left. Kinda like an hourglass?” Cameron put a hand on her chin. “Huh. That’s actual kinda cool now that I think about it.” She stared off into space for a few seconds, then shook her head. “Sorry, where was I?”

“Flugsy dies when the tank is full,” Dementia helpfully recited.

Cameron snapped and pointed to Dementia. “That’s it. You can see the tube from all parts of the gauntlet, so you’ll always have a reminder of how much time is left. You can leave at any time, but if all of you leave, the doc will definitely die. Any questions?”

5.0.5 raised a paw and made a questioning noise.

“I can’t understand anything you say,” Cameron replied. “Time starts… now!”

A quiet hissing filled the glass chamber as a thick purple smoke started slowly pouring in from the bottom.

5.0.5 and Dementia took off past the first set of mirrors and immediately collided with more mirrored walls just behind. Black Hat rolled his eyes and strode through the entrance to the maze without hurry, carefully avoiding the walls his subordinates had run into.

Flug apprehensively stared at the thin layer of smoke on the floor of his prison.

“This- this isn’t really poisonous. Is it?” he asked.

“Of course it is!” Cameron replied. “I take my job _very_ seriously.”

“I don’t remember signing up to die,” Flug hissed.

“You never said I _couldn’t_ kill you.”

“I thought that was _implied_!”

“Well, now you know better!”

“Ugh, you’re worse than Dementia.” Flug lightly knocked his head against the glass in annoyance.

Cameron sniggered, “Probably.”

_|=|_

The only thing sparing Black Hat’s dignity was the incompetence of his employees. He had nearly collided with several walls by that point, only spared by Dementia hurtling past into the mirror he’d nearly didn't notice, or 5.0.5’s paw smacking into it as the poor bear felt blindly along the walls.

Every now and then, one of them would catch sight of the exit reflected in one mirror or another, only for them to get turned around trying to figure out where the sight was coming from. Black Hat’s patience was wearing thin. In rage, he swung his cane into the wall as hard as he could.

The cane bounced harmlessly off the glass.

Dementia let out a tiny giggle that became even harder to contain when Black Hat sent a glare her way.

“This is ridiculous,” he muttered under his breath, as he stalked past her and around a new corner. “Why do I even bother?” He paused.

Why _was_ he even bothering?

Sure, Dr. Flug was a brilliant inventor, but was he really worth all this trouble? Why should he care if the doctor is killed? He can always get a new scientist. And really, wouldn’t that be better? He could finally get rid of that stupid bear while he was at it.

But, something in him balked at the idea. For a brief, terrible moment, he considered he might have formed some sort of… attachment to his employees. He quickly squashed that thought. Clearly, he was doing this because this Park person had insulted him, and he couldn’t let anyone do that and _live_. This power suppressor also must be destroyed before it gets into the hands of a hero team. He was obviously just getting through this stupid ‘Gauntlet’ for that, no other reason.

And if he made it through in time to save Dr. Flug, well, that was merely coincidence.

Mind made up, Black Hat stalked around another corner and found himself face to face with the exit. After poking his cane out to make sure it wasn’t just another reflection, he strode forward and out of the maze with a self-satisfied grin.

_|=|_

“Oh, they’re making decent progress,” Cameron remarked, leaning against the tank. Flug looked down at her. “Your boss just found the exit to the mirror maze.”

Flug turned his attention to the maze and saw that Black Hat’s signature top hat was indeed just visible past the mirrors.

“Huh, so he did,” Flug said, for lack of anything better. The two stood in awkward silence for a moment before Flug spoke up again, “So, when Black Hat kills you, can I dissect your body?”

Cameron let out a startled laugh. “Yeah, alright,” she agreed. “With one caveat. Anything you don’t use for something, burn.”

It was an odd request, but not the strangest thing he’d ever been asked.

“Deal.”

The two returned to silently watching the others’ progress as purple smoke pooled around Flug’s calves and inched slowly higher.

_|=|_

After a few more crashes, first 5.0.5, then a giggling Dementia stumbled out of the maze, following Black Hat’s half-hearted instructions.

In front of the trio was their next challenge. A series of stereotypical scythe traps swung back and forth across an otherwise empty hallway. Dementia rushed forward only to have her hood grabbed by Black Hat.

“I’d rather not have to deal with the mess if you get yourself gored on a scythe, Dementia.”

“Oh, you do care, bombon!” she swooned, and Black Hat dropped her hood in disgust, wiping a hand on his suit jacket.

“Eugh.”

Freed from her beloved boss’ grip, Dementia immediately ran for the first scythe, stopping just short of the swinging blade. She stared down the hall for a moment at the five scythes swinging just offset, then bolted.

In a quick, zig-zag motion, she darted between the scythes and to the end of the hall safely.

“Made it!” she called back. 5.0.5 cheered and clapped excitedly.

As Black Hat approached the first scythe to make his own way across, Dementia looked around the hall she was in. A large, shiny red button immediately caught her attention.

“Oooooo,” she hummed. She inched towards it with waggling fingers. Her only impulse control being knee-deep in poisonous purple gas yards away from her at present, she lost no time jamming her finger into the button.

With a loud, creaking groan, the scythes slowly came to a stop. They hung ominously still in the center of the hall, the red-tinted edges just a few feet from the walls on either side.

Black Hat stared blankly at the scythe he’d been sizing up before walking around it without another word. Dementia slipped back to help 5.0.5 hold the blades safely away as he slipped through the narrow gaps. When all three had made it to other side, Dementia couldn’t help but sneak a peek at the tube in the center of the room. The smoke was up to Flug’s hips now, and, though she’d never admit it, she was starting to get a bit worried.

_|=|_

“You said if I win, I’d like the prize options,” Flug suddenly mentioned. Cameron turned her head to look over her shoulder at him.

“Yeah. And?”

“How can I choose a prize if I’m dead?”

Cameron grinned ominously and replied, “That’s a trade secret.”

Flug groaned, “You have no intention of giving me anything, do you?”

“Hey!” Cameron whirled on him, offended. “I gave my _word_ , and I’m good for that if nothing else. When I say you’ll get a prize, I mean it.” She looked back at the contestants picking their way through an annoying path puzzle before turning back conspiratorially. “I’ll let you in on this much,” she whispered. “Death doesn’t mean shit in this game unless we agree to it.”

There was a moment of silence.

“What?” Flug was incredulous. “What the heck does that mean?”

Cameron wagged a finger in front of her face with a wink. “That’s the only hint you get!”

Flug sighed, but didn’t argue. He’d learned long ago that you can’t really argue with crazy. He gazed down with concern at the smoke creeping up to his waist, then turned his attention back to the others as they navigated the gauntlet.

_|=|_

After wasting several minutes on a stupid “follow the invisible path” puzzle, the three contestants finally made it into a large open area with a pedestal and a screen. Black Hat, Dementia, and 5.0.5 watched with annoyance, excitement, and confusion respectively as the screen lit up with the words “QUIZ TIME!”

“Ooooo, a game show!” Dementia cried, bounding up to the the pedestal with excitement. “I love games!”

5.0.5 picked up on her excitement and hurried forward himself. Black Hat hung back with a disdainful expression and a scoff.

“What a waste of time,” he grumbled.

The words on the screen shifted, reading: “Rules:

“There are 9 questions!

“Get three questions right to win!

“You’ll have 30 seconds to answer each question!

“Each contestant must get at least one answer!

“If you win, the door unlocks! If you lose, you’re stuck!”

A colourful border flashed around the edges of the screen as the words appeared. Dementia and 5.0.5 grew more excited, with her hopping in place and him clapping happily. The rules on screen then changed once more.

“The topic is:

“FLUG TRIVIA!”

Dementia groaned, and flopped over the podium in disappointment.

“Aw, I thought it was going to be a fun game. Like whack-a-mole or Slippery Stairs.”

5.0.5, on the other hand, only grew more excited, hopping slightly in place. He was an expert on his Papa. This would be easy!

“Question 1” appeared on the screen, and 5.0.5 gently as possible–which wasn’t particularly gentle considering his size–pushed Dementia off the pedestal. “What is Dr. Flugslys first name? TYPE YOUR ANSWER!”

5.0.5 excitedly typed “Papa” into the box before pausing. That wasn’t right, was it? He backspaced his answer sadly, then paused to think.

“What?! This is _easy!_ ” Dementia said, pushing 5.0.5 out of her way. “It’s obviously Flug! F. L. U. G!” She typed “Flug” into the answer box and hit the green enter button on the podium. The screen flashed red, with a large red X and the word “INCORRECT” filling the space. “WHAT?!” Dementia groaned.

Black Hat rolled his eyes. “Flug Flugslys? Really?”

Dementia pouted as the next question popped up.

“Question 2: What is Dr. Flugslys’ favourite creation? TYPE YOUR ANSWER!”

This time, 5.0.5 was confident he knew it. With a smile, he carefully typed: “5.0.5.”

The screen flashed green with a large green circle and the words “CORRECT, 5.0.5.” A image of each contestant’s face popped up on screen with a checkmark over 5.0.5’s.

5.0.5 cooed with pride and stepped away from the pedestal, Dementia quickly taking over his spot.

“C’mon, give me a good one!” she cried, bouncing on the balls of her feet and leaning over the podium.

“Question 3: What is Dr. Flug’s birthday? RECITE YOUR ANSWER!”

“Oh! Oh! I know this one!” Dementia cried, leaning on the green button. “August 22nd!”

Once again, the screen reads “INCORRECT!”

“No way! But we always cele- I mean, huh. Guess I got it wrong.” Dementia looked at Black Hat out of the corner of her eye. Technically, they weren’t allowed to celebrate birthdays, and much as she adored Black Hat, she didn’t like it when he was mad at _her_.

After getting several questions wrong, including a few clearly aimed at Black Hat such as “What’s under Dr. Flug’s mask”—which he ignored—Dementia finally correctly answered Flug’s favourite colour.

“Yellow!” she’d shouted, then was overjoyed to find her answer correct.

However, her bout of failures left only two questions remaining, and Black Hat had to be the one to answer.

“Question 8: What is Dr. Flug’s least favourite food? RECITE YOUR ANSWER!”

Black Hat glared at the screen as the timer ticked away. “This is stupid,” he insisted.

“C’mon, boss! You gotta answer the question or we lose!” Dementia whined. 5.0.5 bounced anxiously, knowing the answer but unable to give it himself.

“This is nothing but a waste of time,” Black Hat declared, waving a hand at the screen.

“Just answer the question,” Dementia groaned. 5.0.5 looked back and forth between the screen and the platform in the middle of the warehouse anxiously.

“Why should I, _Lord Black Hat_ , waste my time on–“

“CUZ FLUG WILL DIE IF YOU DON’T, NOW ANSWER THE STUPID QUESTION!” Dementia snapped, gesturing behind her to where the smoke now reached Flug’s chest. 5.0.5 recoiled in shock, but Black Hat’s face remained impassive as the screen flashed grey and read “TIME UP.”

“Fine,” Black Hat relented. “If it shuts you up.” He finally approached the podium as the screen changed once more.

“Question 9: What kind of plane does Dr. Flug need to complete his collection? RECITE YOUR ANSWER!”

Dementia’s jaw dropped. “What kinda question is that?!” she demanded. Even 5.0.5 was confused, tilting his head and letting out a thoughtful hum. The last question, the one that would decide Flug's fate, and it was impossible!

Black Hat just rolled his eyes and leaned casually on the green button.

“A Commercial 130-800,” he recited without hesitation.

Dementia and 5.0.5’s jaws dropped, even further in Dementia’s case, as the screen flashed green and read “CORRECT, LORD BLACK HAT!” and a check appeared over Black Hat’s face on the results board.

“CONGRATULATIONS!” the screen read. “YOU WIN!”

On the other side of the room, the door swung open.

_|=|_

The rest of the challenges were fairly quick and generic. Dodging traps, navigating short mazes, and the like. All the while, that thick purple smoke swirled higher and higher in the glass tube.

Finally, they entered a fairly large empty room so close to the platform that the bottom part of the tube was obscured by the edge.

“This is the final challenge!” Cameron announced above them. “I hope you brought weapons, cuz it’s time for combat!”

Just under the platform, a door swung open. Emerging intimidatingly from the black were a several… Hat Bots?

“Hey, where did you get those?!” Dementia demanded. Cameron just looked at her like she was stupid.

“I bought them. From you guys,” she replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Anyway, good luck!” With that, she pulled a remote from her pocket and pushed a button. The Hat Bots’ eyes turned red and they shot forward to attack.

Dementia pulled her mace from her hair delightedly, cackling as she swung it into the face of the nearest bot. Only, instead of smashing like it normally would, the mace barely left a dent.

“Hey, what gives?” she pouted.

“Super strength is a power, Dementia!” Flug called, on tiptoe to keep his head above the smoke.

Dementia groaned, mindlessly dodging the bot’s counterattack.

“Well, that’s lame.”

Behind her, another bot lunged for Black Hat. He stepped away, unbothered. Normally, the Hat Bots would be the furthest thing from a threat, but right now… Well, dodging was the easy part. Actually damaging them would be much harder. He had to hand it to the doctor; those things were _sturdy_.

5.0.5, not built for violence, was running around wildly, looking for a way to help. As such, he was the first to notice that the door the robots had come through was still open. He grabbed Dementia’s arm and pointed at the door.

“Back off, bear. Can’t you see I’m busy?” She pushed off 5.0.5 as a robotic arm came down between them. 5.0.5 hummed in distress, looking back at the door. As he watched, Black Hat stepped into view. Brightening, 5.0.5 ran up to him and, after a moment’s hesitation, tapped him on the shoulder.

_“What?”_ Black Hat hissed, causing 5.0.5 to flinch back. Shakily, he lifted one paw to point at the open door. Black Hat turned to it, annoyed, but paused when he realized what he was looking at. An evil, slimy grin grew across his face.

5.0.5 took that as permission and ran straight for the doorway. At Black Hat’s order, Dementia began working her way that direction as well, dodging and blocking attacks all the way.

The Hat Bots seemed to pick up on their plan and began racing toward the door themselves. The battle quickly transformed into something of a footrace as the contestants attempted to escape and the bots tried to block their path.

Dementia easily overtook 5.0.5 and slid through the door. 5.0.5 squeezed in just behind her. A Hat Bot reached the door next and whirled around to block Black Hat’s path, but Black Hat just braced his cane on the floor and used his momentum to leap onto and over the bot. He skidded to a stop on the other side of the door, and Dementia, with a cheeky wave at the advancing robots, slammed it behind them.

“That was awesome!” Dementia cheered. She was on the cusp of saying something romantic, but Black Hat shushed her.

The three of them found themselves in a dark room, the first area they’d entered so far with a ceiling below the main warehouse one. Around them were various props and scaffolding, like one might find backstage at a theatre. Against one wall was a ladder leading straight to the ceiling. On closer inspection, Black Hat could see a trapdoor above it.

Gesturing for the others to follow, he approached the ladder and pointed up toward the door. Dementia nodded and scurried up the ladder. With a solid push, she swung the trapdoor up and open, then clambered through. Black Hat followed with more grace, and 5.0.5, hesitantly and with much more difficulty, carefully climbed up as well.

_|=|_

“Ah, I see you made it,” Cameron said as 5.0.5 squeezed through the trapdoor and joined the others onstage. “Cutting it a bit close, dontcha think?” She pointed a thumb over her shoulder at the tube, the smoke obscuring Flug completely now. Cameron grinned evilly. “Why don’t we take a moment to appreciate this victory, huh?”

To no one’s surprise, Black Hat grabbed Cameron by the throat and hissed, “Powers. Now.”

Unimpressed, she chuckled breathlessly and reached for her pocket.

“I’m gonna have a hell of a time replacing this stuff,” she wheezed, pulling out a remote of some sort and pressing a button.

Black Hat, Dementia, and 5.0.5 all felt a sudden surge in strength as their powers returned to them. Immediately, Black Hat crushed the kidnapper’s throat and dropped her.

“Ow, fuck,” Cameron gasped, then her eyes rolled back and she fell still.

Black Hat turned away unceremoniously and swung his cane into the glass tube. It shattered immediately, the smoke billowing out and falling from the platform to the gauntlet below. Flug stumbled forward out of the smoke, coughing but alive.

“Flugsy!” Dementia cheered, nearly breaking his poor spine in a hug, made worse when 5.0.5 lifted both of them in a trademark bear hug.

“Fives! Dementia! I can’t breathe!” he wheezed, and 5.0.5 set him down immediately. After a few coughs, he straightened up and spoke again, “Thanks for the rescue.”

“You can thank us,” Black Hat began, causing Flug to flinch, “by getting rid of this.” He kicked the body toward Flug, who nodded and hurried to secure it. _Yep. Definitely dead._

“If you don’t mind jefecito, I’d like to dissect this when we get back.”

Black Hat just rolled his eyes and vanished in a puff of smoke. Immediately after, Flug, Dementia, 5.0.5, and the corpse all violently folded in on themselves and reappeared in Flug’s lab.

“Well, that was fun,” Dementia said, scaling the wall and skittering toward the door. “Let’s do it again sometime!” With that, she left the room. Black Hat picked up the prototype and strolled out of the lab without a word, while 5.0.5 took a few moments to look over his Papa before leaving to clean.

Flug took a second to watch them leave. Part of him wanted to reflect on what he'd just experienced, but he buried it. He dragged the body of his captor to an exam table and began slowly and methodically picking it apart. She’d said that the ability to leave the multiverse was a “species thing.” If the source was biological, he should be able to find what makes it possible and maybe even create a way to use it for evil.

_|=|_

Hours later, he had examined every last organ of the body, and he’d found nothing out of place for an ordinary human. Normal blood, normal organs, normal bones, all normal. The body wasn’t even sturdier than average, which he’d assumed it would need to be to make inter-multiverse travel viable. With a sigh, he cremated the last of the remains–a few stray organs he’d been examining–and wrote his lack of findings at the end of his report.

“What a waste of time,” he grumbled.

“What, am I that uninteresting?”

Flug fell backward out of his chair as a fully alive and uninjured Cameron appeared, casually perched on the table her body had previously occupied.

“What the-?!”

“You know, I knew you wouldn’t find anything out of the ordinary,” she mused, “but I didn’t figure you’d actually listen to what I asked. I thought I’d have to wait way longer to come back.”

Flug pushed himself back to his feet and approached cautiously.

“How are you alive?” he asked, with a mix of awe and fear. “I just dissected you!”

“Death is an illusion,” Cameron replied, waving her hands in a way that she probably thought was dramatic, but Flug found rather silly. Seeing his deadpan stare, she continued, “At least, for me it is. It kinda goes with the whole ‘species capable of traveling between multiverses thing.'”

“If that’s the case, why was your body so normal?” Flug demanded. He picked up the clipboard with his dissection data written on it. “Physiologically speaking, your corpse was identical to that of a normal human!”

“It’s how we blend,” Cameron replied. She didn’t elaborate, and Flug didn’t think to ask, too busy seething over how much time he wasted on an everyday human dissection. Cameron just watched him in amusement for a while before speaking up again. “I have a present for you.”

That piqued Flug’s interest. He looked up at her, first curious, then suspicious.

“What is it?” he asked, his tone cautious. Cameron grinned and dug in her pocket for a few seconds before holding out a small, flat, rectangular box.

“I got it custom made by a friend of mine.” She kicked her leg excitedly as Flug opened the box to find a small pendant shaped like a commercial airliner on a thin, yet sturdy chain.

Flug stared in awe, carefully removing the pendant and turning it over in his hands. He tore his eyes from the necklace to squint at Cameron suspiciously.

“What’s the catch?” he asked.

“No catch,” she replied. “Actually, it’s pretty useful. If you’re ever in danger, and you’re wearing that pendant, everyone who went through the gauntlet for you will realize you’re in trouble!”

Flug blinked. He stared down at the pendant again. It looked fairly ordinary. Just a silver charm on a chain. Still, he had no reason to doubt it wouldn’t work exactly as advertised. Ridiculous as Cameron had been up to this point, she hadn't lied about anything. He looked back up.

“Why are you giving me this?”

Cameron just shrugged, “Cuz it’s cool and I thought you’d like it? I dunno what to tell you man.”

Flug stared silently at her, as if gauging the truth of that statement. After a few seconds, he smiled.

“Well, thank you,” he said. “I guess I owed you a thanks anyway, huh? You did technically win, even if you died at the end.”

“Well, I figured that would happen,” she admitted. She stood then, brushing imaginary dirt off her pants. “Well, I’d better get going. Don’t lose that necklace; it was expensive.”

“I won’t.”

With a last wave, she disappeared, leaving Flug alone in his lab once more. He glanced down at the frustrating lab report, then the pendant in his hands. With a shrug, he unlatched the chain and fastened it around his neck. After a moment of admiring the sleek plane design, he tucked the pendant into his shirt and went back to work.

**Author's Note:**

> Cameron's back, baby! Well, technically, this happened before Traverser's Turnabout...  
> Full disclosure, I wasn't planning on posting this until after I'd introduced the actual, real protagonists of the Omniverse series, but Cameron is so much fun to write! I can't help myself!  
> So, fun fact: Cameron started out as a side-character, pseudo-antagonist for two other characters. And, in the over-arching plot of the series (there is one of those, I promise), that is still their role. At least, in the beginning. Unfortunately, I am seemingly incapable of writing these stories in the order they're meant to appear! As such, the actual protagonists haven't even been mentioned! Cameron's arc is supposed to be late-story!  
> Oh, and for those wondering, Traversers tend to shift pronouns. Don't be surprised if future stories use he/him or they/them for Cameron.  
> Anyway, thanks for reading. If you wanna know more about the mechanics of the Omniverse and Traversers, you can hmu on tumblr at sirenthestone.tumblr.com.


End file.
